


Entrusted to Your Hands

by Thrushsong_kVaris



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Alpha Kaito, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Angst, But I made it one, Chronic Illness, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fake Medicine, Fake Science, Implied Neglect, Kid wants to help, Omega Shinichi, Queerplatonic Relationships, Shinichi has Pheromone dysphoria, Shinichi has issues, Thus:, almost forgot: No Conan, and is delighted his detective lets him, but no smut, but these guys are closer than 'just friends', emotional Shinichi, he's dealing with a lot okay?, implied suicidal thoughts (past not present), is that allowed?, tagging this 'established relationship', this is not how hormones work, which is not a thing, would be misleading
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24694090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thrushsong_kVaris/pseuds/Thrushsong_kVaris
Summary: Shinichi was curled on his bed in misery, buried under every blanket he could get his hands on, as he was during all his heats. He barely twitched as the window banged open; he was bundled in too many blankets to feel the cold, and if he was lucky the open window would dissipate some of the too sweetsmell.The very familiar voice calling for him by an equally familiar nickname was one of the last things he'd expected to hear. Seeing Kaitou KID stood serenely by his window as if the thief was simply visiting a friend was so surreal he had to blink several times to convince himself he wasn't hallucinating.
Relationships: Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan & Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid
Comments: 26
Kudos: 173





	1. Distortion

**Author's Note:**

> When the idea for this whacked me over the head I thought it would be a smut fic. Then I started writing and Shinichi almost immediately dumped in a boatload of angst. Kid decided his detective needed cuddles, and Shinichi then decided it would be great to tell Kid about _all his problems._ In summary, there will be no smut, even though this is A/B/O.
> 
> On naming the Phantom Thief: In this fic I've used both 'KID' and 'Kid' to refer to our favorite magician. Kid presents a more relaxed and friendly persona in contrast to KID who only lets you see what emotions and thoughts he chooses to display. 'Kaito' is for when he is being completely open with his reactions to things.
> 
> WARNINGS: for emotional instability, implied self-hate, and expressed dysphoria

KID slammed open the window; frowning in a mix of annoyance and worry when the only response was a slight twitch from the mound of blankets on the bed. He’d intended to give his detective a piece of his mind for missing his heist when he’d gone to the trouble of holding one in Beika, but the lack of reaction from the usually alert detective was worrying. Was Meitantei sick?

“Meitantei?” he questioned quietly.

The pile of blankets flailed, and his detective emerged abruptly, flinging three different blankets away at once. It was difficult to tell in the flickering light of numerous candles scattered around the room, and their conflicting scents made it impossible to discern any scent of illness possibly coming from the sleuth, but KID thought Meitantei looked feverish, and his momentary grimace of pain only added to KID’s concern. It took several seconds of blinking at the thief before his detective spoke, “KID?”

“Are you unwell, Meitantei?”

“I’m fine, KID,” was the immediate response. KID watched skeptically as the sleuth drew his knees up to his chest and proceeded to bury himself in blankets again, until the only part of him left uncovered was his face.

 _He might not be seriously ill_ , KID thought, _but it’s obvious_ something _is bothering him._ Stepping farther into the room, KID halted abruptly as the sleuth hunched into himself. He’d seen Meitantei react serenely while being threatened by _serial killers._ Whatever was wrong, it was making his detective defensive and wary, and KID was only growing more worried.

“Meitantei?” Kid let his worry and concern seep into his tone as the question trailed off, hoping that the less specific query might prompt his detective into giving him at least a hint of what was wrong.

A sardonic smile appeared on the sleuth’s face. “I suppose I should have expected you’d figure it out eventually,” he murmured, continuing disgustedly, “I _hate_ heats.”

“I thought you were Beta,” The thief stated bluntly as his mind scrambled to reassess the situation, frowning as he recalled Aoko’s complaints about having stronger senses during her heats, and adding, “Wouldn’t the candle scents make it worse for you Meitantei?”

Revulsion twisted the sleuth’s face as he answered fiercely, “I would use more if it wouldn’t cause a fire hazard.”

Kid, startled by the vehement response, wondered for a moment what could possibly make Meitantei want to add more conflicting scents to the almost overpowering discord, and asked cautiously, “Do your heats cause you to have muted senses?”

His detective laughed hollowly, “I wish.”

“Meitantei…” Kid hesitated to ask, “Are you willing to tell me what smell you’re trying to drown in scented candles?”

“ _This_ ,” hissed the sleuth as he thrust his arm out of the cocoon of blankets.

It took a moment for Kid to realize his detective was showing him the scent gland on his wrist. He didn’t think he’d ever heard of a person disliking their _own_ scent, even though several of his classmates regularly complained about others. Wanting to be sure he understood the sleuth, he asked for confirmation, “You don’t like your heat scent?”

He flinched at the snarled response, “ _Not. MY. Scent.”_

Baring his throat and raising his hands in surrender, Kid replied, “Right, okay, I was wrong, it’s not your scent,” careful to keep his tone soothing as Meitantei’s glare slowly lessened.

Exhaling sharply through his nose, the sleuth’s posture abruptly lost all its aggression, “Not your fault, Kid.” He moved to run a hand over his eyes, before halting and grimacing at his wrist as it neared him.

Kid frowned slightly at the reaction. _Didn’t Meitantei just say it_ wasn’t _his scent that was bothering him? Why would he react like that if he wasn’t bothered by the scent? And he even held his wrist out when I asked what scent he was trying to cover._ “Meitantei,” he paused, trying to work out the right wording to prevent offending his detective again before deciding to keep it simple, “I don’t understand, Meitantei.”

Humming in thought, the sleuth stared at Kid in consideration for a minute before nodding, unfurling one of the blankets from his cocoon and flapping it in the thief’s direction. Kid mentally reeled as the wave of scent hit him, overwhelmingly sweet. By the time he refocused, his detective had already recovered himself with the blanket.

“That,” Meitantei stated, seeing he had Kid’s attention, “What did you smell?”

Kid grimaced, “Sweet,” he opened his mouth to continue and paused in confusion, “That…it was…I couldn’t smell anything else, just that it was sweet.”

“Yes!” the sleuth exclaimed, “That smell. It’s wrong. It’s not _mine_.”

Kid blinked, “Not your…Meitantei are you saying you don’t smell like you?” His detective nodded emphatically. “How,” Kid swiftly cut himself off; asking how something like that could be possible would likely convince the sleuth he didn’t believe him. Changing his question he asked, “How long has it been…like that?”

“Too long,” came the muttered response.

He thought for a moment before trying another question, “Does it change during your heats, or…”

Meitantei shook his head, “Heats make it too strong for the scent blocker to work.”

“Scent _blocker?_ ” The surprised question slipped out before Kid could stop himself.

His detective nodded. “Agasa-hakase made it. The dampeners most people wear don’t last long, and they weren’t strong enough. Hakase came up with one that completely blocked the scent, and modified it to last through my soccer training, but it still wore off too quickly during heats.”

“I think…” Kid said slowly, “I have an idea.”

“Should I start running?” was the dry response.

Kid didn’t bother to stop the grin spreading across his face, heartened by the return of his detective’s usual snarky self. “Don’t you trust me, Meitantei?” he teased.

“I think you know _exactly_ how much I trust you,” while his tone implied ‘not at all’, the sleuth’s eyes were glittering with mirth.

“Wonderful!” Kid clapped his hands, ignoring his detective’s amused snort. “If you’d give me a space to sit, we can test my idea.”

Giving him a curious look, Meitantei shuffled towards the foot of the bed, dragging his collection of blankets closer to himself to give the thief room. Kid waited for the sleuth to finish rearranging things before bouncing over to the bed. Sitting down facing his detective, Kid produced a small package in a puff of smoke. Meitantei rolled his eyes but refrained from commenting on the trick. Kid grinned, pulled a cleaning wipe from the package, and swiftly removed the false scent he wore during heists to cover his own. Seeing his detective’s stunned, disbelieving expression, Kid held out his wrist for the sleuth to smell.

Eyes widening comically, Meitantei jerked backwards, flailing and stuttering for a few moments, “Wha—y-you—Kid, I—”

Holding his detective’s gaze, Kid replied calmly, “I trust you, Meitantei.”

Seeing the sleuth hesitate, Kid tugged his detective out of the scattered blankets to sit at his side and explained, “It should be easier for you to focus on my scent than on the candles.” He waited patiently as his detective visibly considered the idea, eyes flicking between the thief and the abandoned swathe of blankets.

“It’s worth a try,” Meitantei conceded, relaxing slightly in the thief’s hold.

Kid lifted his free arm into his detective’s line of sight, waiting for the sleuth to nod in agreement before moving it slowly closer until his wrist was positioned a few inches from his detective’s nose. Feeling the sleuth relaxing minutely as he cautiously scented the thief, Kid cheered internally, pleased that his plan appeared to be working. Closing his eyes, Kid deliberately dropped his poker face and let himself _express_ his emotions, first through his face, then body language, and finally his scent.

Opening his eyes as he heard his detective’s wordless hum of curiosity, Kaito smiled as he saw the sleuth was observing the changes in his expression and body language. Closing his eyes again, Kaito focused on how delighted he was to be able to sit like this with his detective, how pleased he felt that Meitantei had willingly explained his plight, and was even _letting him help._ He could detect his scent slowly spreading through the room, and grinned with exhilaration; he was essentially giving the sleuth his identity and trusting his detective not to use it against him. Kaito let himself continue to bask in his happiness, knowing his detective would be able to smell it and hoping it would comfort and reassure the sleuth.

Sometime later, his focus was broken by the sound of Meitantei’s delighted laughter as he exclaimed, “It’s working!” while beaming brightly at Kaito.

Seeing his detective’s emotions so transparent, Kaito couldn’t resist teasing him, “So you like my scent, Meitantei?”

The sleuth looked flustered for a moment before a smirk spread across his face. Kaito flailed as he was abruptly shoved flat, yelping as his detective flopped ungracefully on top of him. Leaning his weight on the thief’s shoulders, the sleuth pushed himself up just enough to smirk at Kaito again, “Actually, I do,” his smirk widened as Kaito spluttered, not having expected retaliation, and continued, “so shut up and let me smell you,” before pressing his nose lightly against the side of Kaito’s neck.

“Yes, Meitantei,” Kaito responded teasingly, answering the silent question by tilting his neck to give the sleuth better access and closing his arms around his detective in a gentle embrace. As Meitantei relaxed into his embrace it occurred to Kaito that the sleuth was unlikely to let him go anytime soon, and if he was honest with himself, Kaito was equally unwilling to abandon his detective to his former distress. Therefore he would need to contact Jii-chan and come up with a cover for his disappearance.

The ensuing flood of texts (which mostly consisted of his assistant scolding him for missing their post-heist check-in and Kaito trying to convince the man nothing dangerous had happened) was interrupted by his detective’s confused sounding, “Kid?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you…texting?”

“I need my assistant to help cover my absence for the next…how long is your heat?”

“Three days after tonight.”

“Four days then.”

“You…you’re staying?” The question was so disbelievingly hopeful that Kaito halted mid-text to wrap his arms firmly around his detective.

“Meitantei, unless you throw me out yourself, I’m not going anywhere.” As his detective relaxed in his arms, Kaito continued silently, _If I get my way, you’ll never feel abandoned again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, a post! No, it's not complete. Shouldn't I be writing other things instead of an entirely new story? Yes, yes I should. On a related note, my muses are cats. I was trying to lure them into giving me update ideas and the muse for this sat on my keyboard and refused to move until it received attention. When I gave in and started typing I thought this would be a one-shot. 1500+ words later and y'all can see how that turned out. I have spent the last three days typing this, I think this is the single longest chapter I have ever written, and there are _at least_ two more.  
> Plans for next chapter include exploring Shinichi's issues and what caused them (he has an epic-length backstory, y'all, I think my fingers might fall off typing it) plus more cuddle-therapy from Kid.


	2. Disclosure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinichi stared at the magician, his mind somehow both swirling with fragments of his ‘situation’ and utterly blank of ways to _explain_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Returning readers: Thank you all so much for commenting, giving Kudos, etc, to this story! Seriously, I grin like crazy just seeing the notifications, I'm super thrilled y'all liked the first chapter of this.  
> A WARNING: This chapter is dark in places because Shinichi is revealing a lot of things to Kid (and thinking about more that he's not ready to talk about yet). One of which being that he has a serious illness and the treatment for his condition has a side effect that is very bad for his mental health. Most of his issues are still implied rather than explicit, but there is a lot of negativity (because prejudice against omegas is a thing) and there is an implication that he believes he would have committed suicide if he hadn't had help.  
> FYI, the paragraphs of italics are Shinichi's thoughts.  
> On Naming the Kaitou KID: Shinichi thinks of Kid as a magician rather than as a thief. Seriously, what kind of thief returns stolen objects before they even leave the building? (Shinichi is _very_ curious about that, because 'it isn't what I'm looking for' is not a helpful answer.)

Shinichi was slightly hesitant to disturb the peaceful atmosphere, but as the question has refused to leave his thoughts since the night before, he finally decided to ask.

“How can you stand to wear a false scent during your heists?”

Kid startled slightly, turning away from the mini-fridge whose contents he’d been examining curiously, turning around to blink at Shinichi as the door shut with a muffled thump. Shinichi waited as the magician considered the question.

“It would be problematic if my Taskforce could uncover my identity by scent, Meitantei.”

“That…” Shinichi huffed, annoyed, “that sounds reasonable, but that wasn’t what I meant.”

“No?” Kid questioned lightly. Shinichi bit back his sarcastic response as he realized the magician looked thoughtful instead of amused. “If you could explain more of your situation, Meitantei, it might help me understand what you mean.”

Shinichi stared at the magician, his mind somehow both swirling with fragments of his ‘situation’ and utterly blank of ways to _explain_. After a few minutes of trying and failing to think of a way he might be able to explain everything coherently, he admitted defeat, irritation coloring his voice as he resorted to prompting Kid for a more specific question, “What do you want to know?”

“Ah, it was just a thought, Meitantei…” Kid trailed off with a smile, and Shinichi frowned. Something about the magician’s expression was _off_ , but it looked like his usual mysterious smile—oh.

“No. Whatever you’re thinking, stop that,” Shinichi snapped, irritated that he'd managed to mangle his question badly enough that Kid had apparently decided Shinichi didn’t want to talk to him. “You need to _tell me_ why or what you don’t understand because I don’t know _how_ to explain this!” He relaxed at seeing surprise and wry amusement on the magician’s face in response to his outburst—at least Kid had stopped trying to hide from him.

“You really are frighteningly observant, Meitantei,” Kid commented.

Shinichi rolled his eyes, “I was raised by an award-winning actress; of course I can tell when you’re acting. And you still haven’t answered my question,” Shinichi added before the magician could derail the conversation any further.

Kid hummed in thought for a moment, and asked, “How do you know your scent is wrong?”

Frowning in confusion, Shinichi replied, “I …just do?” Seeing the magician cover his face in exasperation, he tried to explain, “If you tried to trick me by giving me a mug of hot chocolate and saying it had coffee, I’d be able to tell, because it wouldn’t smell like coffee.” He added, still confused by the magician’s question, “Isn’t that how scent recognition works?”

“Ah!” Kid brightened, “So you know because you don’t recognize the wrong scent…wait—Meitantei, you said it was wrong for a long time, did that mean it _was_ right before?” Shinichi nodded, and the magician continued, “When did it change?”

Shinichi grimaced, remembering the frantic research trying to figure out what was _wrong_ with him so he could _fix it_ , replying, “I was twelve.”

“That…” Kid frowned in thought, “sounds like it might have to do with your heats, but…”

“Oh,” Shinichi blinked as he realized he hadn’t mentioned— “Kid, stop. I already know what the cause is.” At the magician’s expectant and slightly impatient expression, he continued, “It’s because I’m on a hormone regulator.”

Kid looked at him in confusion, “Then why…Meitantei, if being on the regulator is making you this miserable, why haven’t you stopped?”

“I can’t.”

“…Explain that please, Meitantei.”

Shinichi took a deep breath, “I will, I—just…it’s hard to talk about, so please don’t interrupt until I’m done.”

“Not a word,” Kid promised solemnly.

“Thanks,” Shinichi closed his eyes to gather himself.

 _He’d always hated being an Omega. Not because it made him different, but because there were still people who_ believed _that it did. (He’d been furious when the soccer coach had forced him to prove he could ‘keep up’ with the team, when the entire team knew he was their best striker. He wished that was the only time he’d been disparaged for no other reason than his ability to give birth.) Even if his first heat hadn’t gone so horribly wrong, he still would have hated it._

He took a deep breath and stated quietly, “My first heat was terrifying. Not as I was experiencing it, I wasn’t really aware enough to be afraid, but afterwards, when I realized what had happened, that it could happen again? Saying I panicked would be an understatement.”

_He remembered the first morning, reading to distract himself, thinking it was the discomfort of the fever aches making him irritable. He’d fallen into fitful sleep, interrupted by the hazy discomfort of his body alternately feeling overheated or shivering with fever chills._

“Both my parents are Beta, so when I woke up the first morning with a light fever and more irritable than usual, they thought I’d just come down with a bad cold. Kaa-san told me to stay home and rest and I basically curled up in the library to read.”

_After everything was over he’d broken down completely, alone in the hospital room, terrified and unable to stop thinking of what might have happened—if his father had waited another hour to check on him—if the doctors hadn’t been able to stabilize him—if one of them hadn’t realized that they could prevent it reoccurring—he would have died._

Opening his eyes to see the magician’s confused and somewhat concerned expression, Shinichi continued, “I don’t remember this, but when Tou-san came in that afternoon to check on me, my temperature was 39.8. That first night, it spiked up to 41.2 before the fever reducers started working. Even then, the next five days my temperature averaged at 40, and no one could figure out what had caused the fever—none of the tests the doctors ran showed any signs of an infection. It wasn’t until after the fact that one of the doctors figured out I’d been in heat—since my parents are Beta and it was my first, there was nothing in my records to tell them I was an Omega—they’d been testing anything they could think of, and it wasn’t until they tested my hormone levels that they understood what had happened.”

_His own body threw itself out of balance and its attempt to fix things nearly killed him. He couldn’t help thinking that if he’d been anything but an Omega it wouldn’t have happened—his heats were what triggered the imbalance, so if he didn’t have heats his body wouldn’t have betrayed him the way it did. And if that hadn’t happened…he would never have been forced to choose between hating himself and risking death by not taking the hormone regulator._

By this time, Kid’s expression had gone straight past anxious to outright alarm, looking like he was barely restraining himself from checking Shinichi for any hint of illness. Thankful the magician was keeping his word not to interrupt, Shinichi went on, “Essentially there’s a malfunction in the gland that produces the hormones that regulate my heats which causes an imbalance—one that my immune system tries to fix by giving me a fever to get rid of the excess hormones. Since the gland isn’t functioning properly it keeps producing excess hormones until my heat ends, and my system just keeps trying to burn them off. The hormone regulator keeps that from happening.”

_Hearing the explanation of what happened he’d felt like his body had betrayed him. That feeling had only gotten stronger as the side effects of taking the hormone regulator had manifested. How could he argue against the ones who looked down on him and insulted him for being weak when he had to take medication to keep his own heats from killing him? How could he ignore the ones who told him omegas were ‘distracting’ because of their scent when he couldn’t even stand to smell himself?_

“Unfortunately for me, one of the side-effects of taking hormone regulators is varying degrees of changed scent; for most people on the regulator the changes are slight to the point of being unnoticeable. At first, my scent only changed slightly—I didn’t really notice a difference until just over a month after I’d started taking the regulator.”

 _If it had stayed as that small shift, he might have learned to live with it. People’s scent did change a little as they went through puberty (usually it happened to Alphas and Omegas). When it had gotten more noticeable he’d asked Agasa-hakase for help, wanting to stop smelling the change in his scent because the stronger it got the more_ wrong _it had felt. But the worst part had been realizing that_ his own scent _was being drowned out by the new addition—if he hadn’t had the scent blockers by the time his scent had vanished entirely...he wouldn’t have been able to live with it._

Shinichi grimaced, admitting, “I tried to explain it to my parents, but, well…I couldn’t make them understand. I don’t know if it’s because they’re Beta so they can’t smell what I can, or if they just don’t understand why it affects me so much. I kept trying to get them to listen but… I gave up after Kaa-san saw me putting on Hakase’s scent-blocker.”

 _That might have been the worst day of his life. Spending the entire day forced to smell the disgustingly sweet scent coming off him with his mind screaming that it was wrong, unable to even ignore it because he knew he should be able to smell himself but_ his _scent wasn’t there and his instincts had him scenting the air trying to find his scent and only able to smell the wrongness coming from him that was_ not his. _He’d collapsed with relief when he’d gotten to Hakase’s house and been able to get rid of the scent again. The entire week afterwards he’d carried scent blocker with him and applied it every hour; even though he knew it had been designed to last much longer he hadn’t been able to stop himself. Since then he’d always made sure he couldn’t be seen putting on the scent blocker, and kept extras everywhere just in case._

“She scolded me for ‘giving in to peer pressure’, and finished the lecture by saying I shouldn’t need to hide my scent to ‘fit in’ with my classmates. She threw away the scent blocker and made me wash it off before I left the house.” Kid let out a strangled noise, and Shinichi waited as the magician visibly forced himself to calm down. “I think that covered the basics, so…do you have questions, Kid?”

“I can think of a few, but first…” Kid gave him an assessing look, “Meitantei, can I hug you?”

Shinichi blinked, wondering why the magician was bothering to ask (he’d thought it was obvious that he didn’t mind Kid holding him considering that last night he’d fallen asleep using the magician as a pillow) and nodded slowly. Kid moved to stand in front of him, and a startled hiss slipped out as the magician leaned forward and _squeezed_ , arms holding him tight enough it was a bit difficult for Shinichi to breathe. The next moment Kid eased his grip with a murmured apology, and Shinichi hummed wordlessly in acknowledgement.

Distracted from his musing about Kid’s sudden need to suffocate him with hugs (had he shown more of his thoughts than he realized?) by his back starting to ache from the awkward angle of the hug, Shinichi shifted backwards and huffed as Kid responded by tightening his hold. Apparently the magician was unwilling to release him just yet (and Shinichi would be fine with that if Kid would just let him move a bit). Eyeing the space next to him, Shinichi shifted one of his crossed legs to the floor for leverage, gripped Kid by the waist and twisted so the magician ended up seated on the bed. Releasing his grip, Shinichi pushed himself up from the awkward half-sideways lean he’d ended up in and turned so he was seated across the magicians lap.

Kid was looking at him with wide startled eyes, and Shinichi stated mildly, “My back was uncomfortable.”

That startled a laugh out of the magician, “I would have let go if you asked, Meitantei.”

“I’m sure you would have,” Shinichi replied absently as he pressed his side to Kid’s chest so that he could rest his head on the magician’s shoulder. “Have I told you enough to get an answer?”

“…What was your question again? I was rather distracted by the idea of you regularly dealing with dangerously high fevers.”

“Hm. I suppose that’s fair. I asked why your KID-scent doesn’t bother you.”

“Well, for one thing, my heists almost never last longer than a few hours. I imagine if I had to wear the artificial scent constantly for days it would get draining very quickly.”

Shinichi hummed to let Kid know he was still listening, and the magician continued, “For another... wearing a different scent as Kid doesn’t bother me because it’s Kid’s scent, and during a heist I _am_ Kid. You don’t have that kind of association with the scent the hormone regulator gave you, so there’s nothing countering your reaction of ‘this is not my scent’. It was a major shift in your perception of yourself, on top of everything else that happened. I’m not surprised you hate it.”

Eyeing the magician thoughtfully, Shinichi mused, “I think you’re the first person to actually say that to me, that it’s not surprising to dislike that scent.”

“Meitantei, scent is part of the way we perceive ourselves, of course you would be upset if the scent you have isn’t the one you identify with.”

Closing his eyes against the sudden swell of emotion, Shinichi hid his face in the magician’s shirt. It was an overwhelming relief to hear Kid saying so sincerely that Shinichi’s feelings weren’t wrong, that they made sense to the magician. He was so overwhelmed it felt like his emotions were clogging his throat, and he felt his eyes stinging—dammit why did he feel like he was about to cry? He wasn’t upset!

“Meitantei?” the magician called softly, probably about to ask why Shinichi was refusing to look at him; Shinichi opened his mouth to reassure Kid but his throat closed and the only sound that made it past the obstruction was a choked sob. The frustration and confusion at his own reactions was enough to push the tears past his eyelids, and Shinichi couldn’t manage to stop them. Kid’s arms tightened around him as the magician questioned worriedly, “What’s wrong, Meitantei?”

“I don’t—it’s not—” Shinichi struggled to force the words past the lump in his throat, “noth—nothing’s wrong—I just—I feel so…” he was feeling _too much_ to express coherently, and his wordless exclamation of frustration cut off with another choked sob.

“Oh, Meitantei,” Kid murmured softly, “It’s okay to cry.” Shinichi’s protest was interrupted as the magician continued, “whatever you’re feeling—upset or happy or frustrated—it’s okay. You don’t have to fight it.”

Shinichi shook his head, stubbornly refusing to give in because if he let himself drown in the storm of emotions he might never find the surface again, and felt Kid gently grip the back of his neck, the magician’s thumb brushing back and forth in reassurance. “Let go, Meitantei, I’ve got you,” Kid said firmly.

The simple unwavering confidence in the magician’s words eased Shinichi’s anxiety and he finally allowed himself to break down completely, for the first time since he was twelve and terrified of the dark depths of his own emotions. Kid comforted him through it, whispering reassuring phrases and soothing nonsense that Shinichi was barely aware of, overwhelmed as he was by his tumultuous emotions. When the tears and sobs finally trailed off, leaving him too drained and exhausted to move, the magician’s gentle embrace and soft murmuring lulled Shinichi to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *tentatively holds out tissue box*...peace offering?  
> (Aside to Shinichi: Why did you have to make this chapter so sad?  
> Shinichi: You _told me_ to reveal my backstory. So I did.  
> Me: I didn't expect it to do _that!_ *gestures at Kid, who is on the verge of tears*  
> Kid: *sniffling* Meitantei...  
> Shinichi: I'm fine now, Kid.  
> Kid: *hugging Shinichi and refusing to let go* You almost died! What if it happens again?!  
> Shinichi: *awkwardly returning the hug* o-oi, don't cry.)  
> I gaped at the word count for this chapter, which is over 2600 words! I think that's a new record for me. (And I still ended up increasing the chapter count. We'll see if it stays at four after I write up the next one...) While working on this I spent waaaay too much time researching diseases and reproductive cycles after I got stuck trying to figure out how to make Shinichi's medical problems realistic before giving up and letting it be wrong. (It made sense to me...hopefully it wasn't confusing.)  
> Oh, the temperatures of Shinichi's fever are in Celsius, so 39.8 is roughly 103.6 Fahrenheit, 41.2C=106.2F, and 40C=104F. I didn't write the unit scales in the chapter because it's not usually used in spoken conversations. (I will sometimes say it's 95 degrees, but most of the time 'degrees' also gets skipped, and it felt awkward to add, so it was left out of Shinichi's dialogue.) Also, in-universe, Shinichi's medical condition is very rare; for most people taking hormone regulators is equivalent to taking pain medication (improves your ability to function, but not something it would kill you to go without).  
> On a lighter note, I seem to be giving Shinichi the habit of shoving Kid into comfortable cuddling positions...  
> Kid, still hugging Shinichi: *teasing* How forward Meitantei.  
> Shinichi: *shrugs* How else am I supposed to get you to hold still?  
> Kid: Well~, you could-  
> Shinichi: *lets go of Kid* Never mind, I don't want to know.  
> Kid: *pouting* *produces dove from nowhere* _You_ wouldn't ignore me, would you?  
> Shinichi: *rolls his eyes and walks away*  
> Kid: Wha—Meitantei come back! I wasn’t done hugging you!  
> Me: ...Anyways, hope to see y'all next chapter...after I type it up. *sighs* Hopefully finding the right words will be easier than it was for this one.


	3. Distaste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Meitantei...you look like eating that is making you sick."  
> Meitantei blinks at Kaito, looks down at the remaining fruit in the bowl he's holding, and back up at Kaito, "It kind of is, actually."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think Shinichi's food issue is technically an eating disorder—at least, I don't think it matches any of the eating disorders I know of, but since this entire chapter is about Shinichi's problem with food, I figured I should tag it to be safe.

Kaito frowns down at his sleeping detective in concern. He hadn’t noticed until he’d lifted the sleuth to a more comfortable sleeping position, but Meitantei is worryingly thin. (Getting his detective to let go after being moved had been a battle in itself, and Kaito had eventually had to sacrifice a KID dummy for the sleuth to cling to instead. He can’t quite decide if Meitantei squishing the dummy into a contortion that would definitely break its spine if it had one is adorable or terrifying.)

He’d been distracted earlier, but he is starting to think that Meitantei was so disturbed by the scent problems that his detective probably didn’t care for himself at all during heats. He hadn’t seen the sleuth so much as look towards the fridge (other than during Kaito’s brief glance inside), and he’d been here for nearly a full day—surely Meitantei should have eaten something by now? Well, if his detective won’t (or can’t) take care of himself, Kaito will just have to step in. As soon as the sleuth wakes up that is.

Satisfied with his decision, Kaito rummages through the sleuth’s food stash for something hopefully light that he can badger Meitantei into eating. He’s careful with his selection—making his detective sick is not the way to get Meitantei to start eating properly again. In the end, he settles for an assortment of fruit because he isn’t willing to risk waking the sleuth by reheating things.

He finishes preparing the bowl of fruit just in time; he can hear Meitantei moving around and grumbling as he slowly wakes up. The startled yelp has him whirling in alarm to see his detective warily eyeing the deflated KID dummy.

“Whoops, sorry about that, Meitantei,” Kaito says sheepishly, “Those aren’t really built to stay inflated for long periods of time.”

“…Why?”

Kaito blinks, and it takes him a few moments to realize the sleuth isn’t asking why the dummy didn’t last longer, “Ah, I needed to get up, so I gave you that because I couldn’t reach your pillows.”

Meitantei huffs in amusement, “So you switched yourself with a decoy? Nakamori-keibu would probably burst a vein if he knew all that’s needed to catch Kaitou KID is to take a nap.”

Grinning, Kaito replies, “Ah, but you’re a special case, Meitantei. Oh, and this is for you!” He bounces (carefully) over to the bed and hands over the bowl of fruit. Meitantei accepts it with a confused tilt of his head, like no one’s ever prepared food just for him, and Kaito silently adds another black mark against the sleuth’s parents. He forces the thought out of his head—there will be time to consider that when he’s not risking upsetting his detective by accidentally broadcasting his anger.

Instead, he distracts himself by watching his detective slowly pick through the bowl of fruit. He isn’t sure if the sleuth is looking for something specific or just assessing the different fruit Kaito put together. He hadn’t been sure what kind of fruit Meitantei favored, so he’s delighted to see that once he actually spears a piece of apple and starts eating the sleuth seems to enjoy Kaito’s selection, if the spark of happiness in his detective’s eyes is anything to go by.

It’s oddly comforting to watch his detective eating, relaxing even. Maybe it’s the vaguely thoughtful expression as Meitantei pokes through the bowl between bites before stabbing the next piece of fruit. Or it could be some instinct he hasn’t experienced before, that seeing someone eat food he provided makes him feel happy? (It’s not like he’s had the opportunity to cook for very many people, mostly because the first time Aoko let him in her kitchen he was more focused on entertaining himself than actually being helpful. Although if he’s this content just from slicing up a bowl of fruit, maybe he should try cooking an actual meal for Meitantei…)

Shaking himself out of that train of thought, Kaito purses his lips in concern. The sleuth… has an odd expression on his face. It almost looks like he’s forcing himself to keep eating, and as his detective takes another bite, Kaito can see Meitantei’s expression twist for an instant before it smooths out.

"Meitantei...you look like eating that is making you sick."

Meitantei blinks at Kaito, looks down at the remaining fruit in the bowl he's holding, and back up at Kaito, "It kind of is, actually."

Kaito winces, “Sorry, I guess I gave you too much, you don’t have to force yourself to finish.” He reaches over to take the bowl and blinks in surprise when the sleuth intercepts his hands.

“That’s not…” his detective grimaces, and sighs through his nose, “There’s no good way to say this, is there?”

“I have no idea,” Kaito informs the sleuth, “I promise I’ll listen anyways.” That gets him a small smile, and Meitantei shakes his head fondly at Kaito.

“Right,” his detective takes a moment to think, before saying bluntly, “I can’t handle eating anything sweet.” Kaito feels his face fall, and Meitantei hurriedly continues, “No, don’t—I _like_ fruit, Kid.”

“Eh?” Kaito is very confused, “But, then why…?”

“Well, it would be more accurate to say I used to. I just…” the sleuth makes a sound of annoyance, “I’m almost certain it’s because of the stupid scent changes. I started disliking sweeter deserts around the time I noticed that the sweet scent was getting stronger. The stronger it got, the less I could stand eating anything that was remotely sweet. The taste makes me feel nauseous.”

Kaito frowns at the sleuth, “Why did you eat it then? I could have given you something else if you told me.”

“Ah…” Meitantei gave him a sheepish look, “I was hoping your scent being all over the place would help. And it did!”

“Did it really?” Kaito asks skeptically.

“Yes, actually. Here, look,” his detective hands over the fruit bowl and Kaito looks down at it in confusion.

“What exactly am I looking at, Meitantei?”

Huffing, the sleuth says pointedly, “There are only two kinds of fruit left in that bowl, Kid.”

“Okay?” Kaito is pretty sure he’s still lost.

His detective groans and flops backwards, “Kid. I ate all of the other ones. I _didn’t have a problem_ eating the other ones! Which is different, because for the last, oh… year or so?…I haven’t been able to eat more than about two bites of _any_ fruit without wanting to puke.”

It takes a moment for him to process that, and he blurts incredulously, “ _Apples_ are too sweet for you?!”

“Mm. Not being able to eat sucks,” Meitantei says tiredly.

“Wait, WHAT?!” Kaito shouts. He feels a bit guilty when the sleuth flinches at the sudden noise, but his detective just rolls onto his side and gives Kaito a look that clearly reads ‘you weirdo, what is wrong with you’, so Kaito lowers his voice and rephrases his question, “What do you mean by not being able to eat?”

Meitantei’s expression doesn’t change, “It means what it sounds like?”

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Kaito forces his voice to stay even as he responds, “I sincerely hope not because to me it sounds like you’re being forced to starve yourself because no one has cared to notice your problem with sweet foods and make food for you that doesn’t make you sick.”

“…”

His detective’s silence is telling, and Kaito exhales slowly before he opens his eyes again. “Well,” he says softly, “That at least, I can help with.” The sheer surprise on the sleuth’s face has Kaito pulling his detective into a firm hug. “What, did you think I was just going to disappear when your heat was over?” he says lightly, “You’re stuck with me, Meitantei,”

“I’m pretty sure my parents would notice if you tried to move in and cook for me,” the sleuth responds dryly, and Kaito reluctantly lets go as his detective pulls back to look at him, “You’re pretty terrible at being stealthy.”

Kaito gasps exaggeratedly, clutching his chest, “How rude!” he exclaims, “I am a phantom thief, a master of disguise and deception!”

Meitantei rolls his eyes, “Uh-huh. What are you planning, oh master of deception?”

“Well, first, I need to make sure; you only have this problem with sweets, right? There’s nothing else you hate eating?”

“No, it’s just things that taste sweet.”

“Right, okay.” Kaito starts brainstorming out loud, “Well, the easiest to start with is probably for you to fill that,” he points to the fridge, “with food you can actually eat. Pre-made bentos or things like that, so you have options if you miss a meal. Maybe stock up on protein bars if you can find good ones.” His detective hasn’t appeared to disagree with anything so far, so Kaito keeps going. “Then, I could help you learn how to cook.”

“Problem,” Meitantei interrupts, “I don’t think I can cook my own dinners without getting into a confrontation…and I doubt I’d be able to convince my parents it’s necessary.”

(The defeated tone in the sleuth’s voice as he says that last phrase has Kaito forcibly shoving down his anger again. His detective’s parents may not be bad people, but the fact that Meitantei is so used to not being believed or listened to by _his own family_ is as heartbreaking as it is infuriating. Now is not the time to plot retribution; helping his detective take care of himself is more important. However, once Meitantei’s heat is over and Kaito has a chance to plan, the sleuth’s parents will feel a prankster’s wrath.)

“Just dinner?” Kaito checks, wanting to make sure that was the only difficulty Meitantei had spotted so far.

“Yeah, they won’t mind if I switch to making my own lunches instead of buying them at school, and breakfast shouldn’t be a problem since I’d have to get up earlier to cook the lunches…” his detective trails off hesitantly.

“Okay, we can focus on teaching you to make breakfast and things you can put in bentos for the cooking part,” Kaito revises. “If dinners are going to be a problem it would be best to start eating more during your other meals, that way you can get enough food from the meals you’re planning yourself that you can avoid foods you can’t eat without ending up hungry. Or you could keep your fridge here stocked with dinners if you think that would work better.”

“Another thing you could do…” Kaito hesitates, but the sleuth just looks at him curiously, so he plunges ahead, “You could try to stay out more often. If you aren’t eating here, you’ll probably have more control over what you eat, right?”

His detective nods, “That will probably help a lot actually, especially on the weekends; since it seems like it will take a while to learn to cook.”

“Eh, some things are more difficult than others, but it’s not like you need to become a chef, just learn a few basic recipes.”

“Oh, wait.”

“What?” Kaito looks at his detective expectantly.

“Where exactly will I be learning to cook? Because here is not an option.”

Blinking at the sleuth’s pained expression, Kaito questions, “…May I ask why?”

“Kaa-san is…enthusiastic…about things like that. She would hover the entire time and I wouldn’t be able to concentrate,” Meitantei responded calmly.

“We can cook at my house then,” Kaito offers. “If you’re alright with that, Meitantei,” he adds hastily, seeing the startled look on his detective’s face.

“Are you alright with it, Kid?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t,” he says.

“Then it’s fine.”

“Sounds like we have a plan,” Kaito says with a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually cut ~700 words from the end of this because I didn't like where it went, and this thing is still nearly 2k words. There's also the 'second half' of this, which sort of split off before those 700 words because they were giving me writers block and is now 1.2k words, but it's still incomplete so I decided it should stay split. (That 1.2k is now the start of—hopefully _most_ of—chapter 4.)  
> (For those of you who read my NaNoWriMo posts on tumblr, this was the chapter that refused to end. I swear it grows every time I look at it.)  
> I'm tempted to just give up on the chapter count for this, because it seems like every time I post a new chapter, the final count goes up...I bumped it up to ten this time to give myself some breathing room, we'll see how long it lasts.


	4. Disconnect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinichi shifts in discomfort; he doesn’t really want to answer, doesn’t want to think about the fact that he doesn’t trust his own parents to listen to him…but he can see the magician’s expression darkening and he knows his silence is probably making Kid assume that he actually believes his parents would _deliberately_ choose to harm him and Shinichi doesn’t want _anyone_ to think that about his parents, even if they’re maybe not doing everything they could for him they still _care_ about him, _he knows that_ —

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for discussion of whether Shinichi is suicidal (the answer is no, but Shinichi is definitely dealing with depression, so his thoughts on the matter are still very negative)  
> Also warnings for continued discussion of bad parenting by the Kudos, including Shinichi retelling the previously mentioned incident with Yukiko in more detail. (I think both are covered by the already existing tags, but let me know if y'all think I should add any.)

“Why haven’t you told your parents you don’t like sweet stuff? They wouldn’t force you to eat something you hate, right?”

Shinichi shifts in discomfort; he doesn’t really want to answer, doesn’t want to think about the fact that he doesn’t trust his own parents to listen to him…but he can see the magician’s expression darkening and he knows his silence is probably making Kid assume that he actually believes his parents would _deliberately_ choose to harm him and Shinichi doesn’t want _anyone_ to think that about his parents, even if they’re maybe not doing everything they could for him they still _care_ about him, _he knows that_ —

He yelps in surprise as Kid abruptly hugs him and squeezes—it feels oddly reassuring and Shinichi didn’t realize how tense he was until the hug gets him to relax again. The magician gently pulls Shinichi to sit next to him and Shinichi lets himself lean against Kid’s side as Kid curls an arm around his back.

“You don’t have to answer that, Meitantei,” Kid murmurs, and Shinichi sighs because the magician is misunderstanding things again. Apparently Shinichi is bad at communicating even when he says absolutely nothing.

“It’s not that I think they would force me to eat something that they know makes me feel sick…” Shinichi lets the sentence hang for a moment, not quite sure how to explain the deterioration of his relationship with his parents. “I just…don’t really think they’d believe me if I did tell them about it.”

He can feel Kid’s arm tighten its grip as the magician comments in a carefully neutral tone, “You mentioned before that you couldn’t find a way to explain the scent change to them?”

Shinichi nods in agreement, elaborating, “I tried more than once, but they never really seemed to understand exactly how _wrong_ it felt to me. I’m not sure Agasa-hakase really understood either, but at least he tried and _listened_ to me. My parents…” Shinichi closed his eyes, remembering some of his attempts to talk to them, “It felt like they had already decided that I was overreacting, that I would just…get over it, like I was going through some sort of phase.”

“That’s terrible,” Kid said flatly, “Meitantei, I could tell you were miserable the minute I looked at you yesterday, how could they just—?”

“I wish I knew, really,” Shinichi grimaced. “Maybe I should have kept trying to talk to them but, well, after what happened I wasn’t willing to risk it.”

“You don’t have to answer this—”

“It’s fine, Kid,” Shinichi interrupts. “You wanted to know what incident I’m talking about, right?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable either, Meitantei.”

“Thank you for that, really,” Shinichi replies. “But I mentioned this part before—at least, the general idea of it. The time Kaa-san saw me putting on scent blocker?”

“You mentioned it, yes,” Kid says, and Shinichi can hear the thinly-veiled concern in the magician’s voice.

“That was…three years ago now, I hadn’t realized it had been so long,” Shinichi muses, shaking his head to refocus himself, “I think I must have been running late for school, otherwise I wouldn’t have needed to apply the scent blocker while I was leaving the house. Kaa-san was downstairs and saw me; she wasn’t sure what I was doing at first, she had to ask about it.

I can’t remember anymore exactly what I said, but it made her furious. She grabbed the scent-blocker out of my hand and dragged me into the bathroom—threw it into the trashcan and ordered me to wash all of it off. The whole time she was lecturing me about peer-pressure and accepting myself and how trying to hide my scent because of other people’s prejudice will only propagate the prejudices and that not standing up for myself is ‘unacceptable behavior’—and she basically told me if she caught me using a scent blocker again she would search my room to get rid of any I had and ground me for months.”

Shinichi tugged lightly at the magician’s suddenly too-tight grip and Kid took several deep breaths as he calmed down and loosened his grip before speaking, “I can see why you didn’t think trying again was worth it.”

Wryly, Shinichi continued, “It pretty much had the opposite effect on me. I had to spend the day at school without it and basically ran to Hakase’s house as soon as school got out— it took me a week afterwards to stop applying it every hour or so even though I _knew_ it wasn’t wearing off that quickly. I started keeping scent blocker _everywhere_ —hid them all over my room, kept one in my school bag, in the shoe locker, the soccer lockers, anywhere I thought she wouldn’t find them. Agasa-hakase was really worried about it, I think, wanted to know why I needed so much of it—even asked me if he needed to mess with the formulas to make it more effective—he seemed relieved when I told him I wanted to have extras in case I ever forgot to apply it.”

“I’m glad you had at least one person helping you out, Meitantei.”

“Hakase is a lifesaver,” Shinichi agreed, frowning when the magician made a pained noise in response. “Kid, what…?”

“Please tell me you didn’t mean that literally.”

Shinichi blinks in confusion for a moment, _what did he say? Why is literally saving my life—_

_Oh_

“I—he never had to keep me from—never needed to physically stop me…but his scent blocker is probably the main reason I never actually tried to…” Shinichi can’t make himself finish the sentence, but it’s probably just as well, considering that Kid is clinging to him like the magician thinks he might disappear and _shaking._

He really doesn’t want to think about that any more than he has to, so he just lets the magician hold him and returns the hug in hopes that feeling Shinichi holding him is enough to help because he doesn’t think there’s anything he _can_ say that would make this situation better.

Eventually the magician stops shaking, but doesn’t lift his face from where it’s pressed against Shinichi’s shoulder, and for a minute he thinks Kid might have fallen asleep, but then the magician speaks.

“You’re not allowed to die, Meitantei,” Kid says. It could almost sound like a joke, if the magician’s voice wasn’t shaky and choked with fear—Shinichi doesn’t think he’s ever heard Kid sound so afraid, and he has no idea how to respond. (Everyone dies eventually. Shinichi has a feeling that saying that would be a bad response right now, but he can’t really promise to not die—he’s not immortal.)

“Meitantei, you’re scaring me.”

“Wha—sorry, I just—I don’t know what to say?” it comes out as more of a question than Shinichi intended.

Kid exhales shakily and replies, “Ideally you could tell me that you aren’t actively suicidal, but if that’s not true please, please don’t lie to make me feel better about it.”

“I—I’m not. Suicidal. I think I c—I mean, I’ve never—made a plan or—I might hate myself on the bad days but I don’t want to _die._ That—I—” Shinichi can’t seem to say anything else as his throat closes over; he can imagine based on his heats how miserable he would have been if Hakase had never made a scent blocker for him and how easily he _could have_ been miserable enough to really consider it—but that _isn’t_ what happened and Shinichi desperately hopes he will never reach that state of mind.

“Breathe, Meitantei, it’s okay, you’re okay, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have pushed you like that, just take a deep breath, you don’t have to say anything.”

Belatedly, Shinichi realizes the tight sensation in his chest is definitely due to lack of air because somehow he forgot to keep breathing, and inhales shakily as he lets the magician’s apologies and reassurances wash over him without really processing the words. The soothing tone is enough to calm him slightly; just enough that he can focus on his careful inhales until his chest doesn’t feel tight and he can think enough to process Kid’s remorseful rambling.

“..so, so sorry Meitantei, I should have noticed you weren’t comfortable talking, shouldn’t have tried to make you answer—”

“It’s fine, Kid,” Shinichi interrupts the magician’s self-recrimination.

“It really isn’t,” Kid says unhappily, “Meitantei, I _hurt_ you, badly enough to make you panic, all because I was too busy worrying to _pay attention_ to your reactions.”

Shinichi pulls back so that he can see Kid’s face, and momentarily forgets what he was planning to say, because he doubts he’s ever seen the magician look truly upset before, much less the truly miserable expression on Kid’s face; as if he’s expecting Shinichi to declare he hates Kid and will never come to another heist because he can’t forgive the magician.

“It’s true that you upset me, but you were upset yourself and honestly it would be hypocritical of me to be angry at you for trying to get me to reassure you because I probably would have done the same thing.”

“That doesn’t—”

“I’m not done,” Shinichi interrupts firmly, and Kid snaps his mouth shut mid-protest. “I know you well enough to know that you weren’t trying to hurt me. You’ve already apologized, and I can see that you really mean it, so repeating yourself won’t do anything to help either of us. If you really want to make it up to me, you can promise to help me research and figure out if there might be other ways to deal with all of—well… this.” Shinichi gestures vaguely at his abandoned pile of blankets to indicate that he’s talking about the scent that seems to be the source of most of his problems. (He can already think of several questions he hasn’t been willing to research for fear of making himself more miserable, and a few situations he wishes he could have more reassurance for in which Kid’s presence could be comforting.)

“Of course, Meitantei,” Kid agrees instantly, “If you want help with anything at all just ask and I’ll be there to support you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was pretty heavy, but it should slowly start looking up from here.  
> This fic is going to be sooooo much longer than I thought, y'all, my idea for the ending was Kaito showing up w/o disguise like the day after Shinichi's heat ends with a sappy 'I won't abandon you' line. Something similar to that scene will still happen, but it's no longer the end (because I keep giving myself more ideas)...so yeah, there is no longer an estimated chapter count because I keep changing my plans XD


End file.
